Jacob, uttering some queer, inarticulate sound, hung up the whip and walked oft. As long as he lived, he never forgot the look of the slender little lad standing there ready to bear anything to shield his little brother.
Mrs. Rayburn, thus left to her own devices, took the two children to her sitting-room, and opened a queer little hiding-hole in the thickness of the wall, into which she pushed Frank, saying—
"There you both stay, till my lord says what is to be done with you;" and she was in the act of pushing Fred in too, when he dived suddenly under her ample skirts and fled, nor could she find him, though she followed as soon as she had shut Frank in.
Frank sat down on the floor of his prison, and tried to collect his thoughts. He had not quite succeeded when the door of the closet was softly opened, and little Fred crept in.
"Oh, Fwank, she'll send me away and keep you!"
"How do you know?"
"I was hid away in the big room, and she and Mawia came in to dust it and make weady; and she was telling Mawia."
"Yes; tell me what they said."
"Said I was a awful bad child, and that there was no managing the two of us. Gwandma said she'd keep you and send me away; my lord would manage it for her."
Frank scrambled to his feet.